


Bone Shards

by Lady_Kit



Series: Broken Bones Multiverse [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fell-verses suck, Fluff, Hurt No Comfort, Multi, Stories tagged individually, Temporarily suspended, Trigger warnings in the endnotes, short story collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-12-30 01:18:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12097551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kit/pseuds/Lady_Kit
Summary: In which the 'Broken Bones' multiverse is explored further.Things you can expect: character interactions, dark humor, fluff, broken bones, and Fell-verse bullshit. Probably a lot of Fell-verse bullshit, honestly.





	1. A note and requests!

Hello, everyone! This is a collection of stories that make use of the “Broken Bones” continuity. (So if you haven’t read that, you’re probably going to be lost. And there will be spoilers.) I’m going to hop between and across both time and space—so expect short pieces (500-5,000 words, probably) taking place within any of the four main universes, at any point in time. I might also post ‘non-canon’ stories, so that I can make use of the established histories and relationships without affecting the overarching ‘plot’.

~~So. Here’s the thing. I have a lot of story pieces kind of…drifting through my head. And I don’t even know where to start with them. That’s where you guys come in—I would really appreciate two things from you guys.~~

~~1) Let me know what you’re interested in. Was there something I didn’t fully flesh out in the main story that you’d like to know more about? Are there unanswered questions? Or just bits of backstory that you’d like me to elaborate on? Relationships that you’d like to see more fully explored? Just let me know—throw me a question, and I’ll answer in story form.~~

~~2) Requests! Yes. I will be taking requests for this series. They can be before, after, or during the main story—like I said, some of these might be ‘non-canon’ stories (I will mark them clearly, don’t worry). I love ‘what if-?’ scenarios, so please, feel free to propose them.~~

~~Please try to post your questions/requests/etc in the comments section of this chapter, so I can find them easily. Other than that, just be patient with me. I’m going to be slower to update now because I’m going to be juggling two story collections, and I’ve also got some original fiction that I’ve been neglecting…. And, honestly, I probably won’t get to every request/question. I’m sorry, but if I feel like this is something I have to do rather than something I want to do…then I’m probably going to flee the fandom. So, yeah, I’ll work on the ones that interest me most, and may post some that don’t have any originating prompts.~~

Additionally, keep in mind that the rating is M, not E. There will likely be some sexual content (and violence and crude language and—), but probably nothing explicit. As always, I’ll include trigger warnings in the end notes, but now I’m going to tag each chapter individually, since I’m not keen on having a wall of tags above my summary. And, please, if anyone ever feels that I’ve tagged inadequately or that I need to up the rating, just let me know.

One last bit of business. (I honestly feel really silly saying this because it seems unnecessary, but I actually have had a couple people ask….) I’m really not protective of my headcanons, worldbuilding, or character interpretations, so feel free to make use of any or all of those things.

 ~~Alright, guys. Send me your questions/requests/etc! And~~ have a lovely day, you wonderful people.

 

EDIT: So. I'm working on a sequel to Broken Bones. Until further notice...I'm holding off on updating this collection. I know you guys understand. : )


	2. Underfell Minisode: Bet your life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Snowdin's newest guard is tested.
> 
> OR: Edge's worst day on the job probably isn't what you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Underfell. NPC POV. Edge is a secondary character. Red is barely mentioned. Canon to 'Breaking Bones'. 5 years prior to the start of BB. **TRIGGER WARNING IN THE ENDNOTES, MAY CONTAIN MILD SPOILERS**. 
> 
> It's Underfell, guys. This isn't a happy one.

It wasn’t so bad, working for Grillby. He didn’t beat his employees, and he ran a clean house—even made sure that none of the johns got too rough. For the most part, he took his cut, and then he left them alone. Besides, he’d been generous enough to let Bonny work part-time, knowing she was only looking to make some extra G on top of what the shop brought in. Her day job made enough for to keep her and her children fed, clothed, and sheltered…but schooling was expensive. And Sienna was smart. Sienna deserved the chance to educate herself, the chance to become something other than just another snow-bunny stuck in Snowdin.

If Bonny wanted to send her eldest child to one of the capital’s fancy schools, though, she’d have to save up enough G to afford the tuition—not to mention booking an escort to get to the Capital, tutoring to prepare Sienna for the entrance exam, and the various hands that needed to be greased just to have her application considered. She’d been grateful when Grillby, hearing of her plight, had drawn up a contract, even leaving her with the option to separate service so long as she gave him two weeks notice. It had been incredibly generous, and she’d only needed a few days to weigh her options before signing—a decision made even easier when her sister pointed out that, as long as she made him money, Grillby had an interest in keeping her alive. No rabbit monster could afford to disregard that fringe benefit. Not Underground. Not in Snowdin.

On days like today, when her purse was heavy with G, she couldn’t regret that decision. Sienna, she told herself, would never have to do this kind of work. She could work in the Hotland Labs—and _not_ as a test subject—or the palace treasury or MTT studios. Sienna would have opportunities her mother couldn’t have imagined when she was young, and Bonny would do whatever necessary to make that happen. If she had to spread her legs for a few johns? Fake a few orgasms? Or, most surprisingly, just sit and talk with the monster buying her time? (It always amazed her how many monsters only wanted some companionship—nothing more sexual than a hug and a kind word.) It was a small price to pay for her child’s future.

Shouldering the door open, she stepped inside, a small package tucked under her arm as she pushed the key back into her pocket. One of her coworkers had a boy a few years older than Bonny’s youngest and a few years younger than her middle child, so they’d agreed to exchange hand-me-downs. Cinnamon would appreciate having a new book for his bedtime story, and Sienna—who had been roped into babysitting while her mother worked her second job—would be grateful for the variety. Bonny smiled to herself, looking forward to the morning, when she could give Cinnamon—

Her nose twitched, and she dropped the package, racing up the stairs. Something was wrong. Something was wrong something was wrong somethingwas _wrong_! A cool breeze stirred her fur, and the air was wrong—too cold, carrying an unfamiliar scent…and the chalky texture of freshly shed dust. Instinct alone drove her now. At the top of the stairs, she shoved the bedroom door open and everything after that blurred together.

There was screaming, and the rush of magic, powered by unspeakable rage and pain. There was the sound of glass breaking, and then the frantic rush to search the other two bedrooms. Desperate hope rising only to be dashed. _NONONONONONONO!_ And dust. There was dust. So much dust. Her mind didn’t grow much clearer when she nearly broke down her own door to stumble out into the snow. Her throat grew sore and her voice hoarse, and she realized she hadn’t stopped screaming. She frantically searched the snow for tracks, any sign of where the intruder had gone. Her children were—

Just as she realized there would be no tracks, a large hand closed around her arm and a cold, wet nose was pressed against her neck. She grabbed onto the other monster—a dog, she noted faintly—and kicked at them with her back legs, killing intent sharpening her back claws even further. The screech of claw on metal sounded, and the other monster grunted, stumbling back and dropping her on instinct. There were more hands waiting to catch her, though, and voices, she thought. Panic and rage and her aggravated LV made it hard to make sense of them, but she thought they were talking about her.

“What happened? Did she turn feral?”

“Nah, Boss—

(“She’s only LV 5.”)

She struggled against the hands holding her down. “My kits!” she screamed, “I have to—They’re—He—!”

Suddenly, a skeletal hand was on her chin and a pair of crimson eyelights stared out at her from otherwise empty sockets. For a moment, she froze, paralyzed by that gaze. Then an ounce of clarity returned to her. This was Undyne’s new lieutenant, sent fresh from training to keep an eye on Snowdin. The kid—and, yeah, maybe he was of legal age, but he was still just a _kid—_ was as green as a shoot in spring and so wet behind the ears the cold Snowdin air had probably frosted over his earholes.

The rage bubbling up from Bonny’s soul crystalized and found its focus. “You,” she snarled. “My kits.” She swallowed, nostrils flaring as she inhaled sharply and started to growl. “My kits are dead. Where were you?” she asked, voice low, “Where were you when their murderer was breaking into my home? Where were _any_ of you?” Her voice grew louder as she renewed her struggles. “We have a _charter_ , signed by the king! Snowdin is supposed to be a safe zone! It’s supposed to be—“ Just then, her anger shattered and reshaped itself into a deep, piercing grief. She sagged in the dog’s hold. “They were supposed to be safe. They were supposed….” She could have slapped herself for her own foolishness. This was _Snowdin_ , not Waterfall. Had she really thought a _piece of paper_ would keep her children protected? The dog gathered her in, keeping her restrained though she now hung limp in his grip.

All the while, those red eyelights rested on her, though the skeletal hand had released her as soon as she’d started struggling. “Lesser, take her to the guard station and keep an eye on her. Dogamy, Dogaressa—go inside and see if you can pick up the scent. We’re going hunting.” Bonny was barely paying attention. She wept openly at this point, completely disregarding all the rules for surviving in the Underground. What did it matter at this point? What did she have to live for? Just as she teetered on the verge of Falling Down, though, Dogaressa re-appeared, a small bundle in her arms. And it was…shaking?

Heart hammering, she pressed forward. She hardly noticed that Lesser had released her, and she barely heard Dogaressa explain that he’d been hiding in a linen closet, buried under so many towels and blankets that his shaking hadn’t been noticeable. Bonny’s ears were tuned only to the simple syllables spoken by a small voice. “Mama?”

Then she wrapped the bundled child in her arms, crying over him. “Cinna,” she gasped out, relief momentarily overpowering her rage and grief. “Oh, _Cinna_!” Cinnamon just burrowed into her, curling in on himself to make himself appear as small as possible. He shook in her arms, not saying anything. Bonny raised her eyes to Dogaressa. Neither of them spoke, but Dogaressa nodded once before turning away, eyes downcast. Then she and her partner took off running, heavy axes clattering against their armor as they ran. The skeletal figure that followed, by contrast, was nearly silent.

Bonny paid neither them nor her watchdog any mind, even when Lesser herded her toward the guard shack. She focused only on the kit in her arms, murmuring soothingly to him and trying to control her emotions and her LV enough to project comfort and calm, rather than panic and rage. Soon enough, Cinnamon surrendered to exhaustion and fell into a fitful sleep. Bonny was not so fortunate. She remained awake to guard her living kit…and to mourn the fallen four. Tomorrow, she would figure out how she was going to pick up the shattered pieces of her life. Tomorrow, she would summon the courage to re-enter her ~~defiled~~ home and gather her kits’ remains. Tomorrow, she would find the will to not just survive but to _live_ —Cinnamon needed a mother, not a broken shadow. Tomorrow. Tonight, she would allow grief to take her.

She barely noticed when her sister barged into the guard shack, glaring at Lesser until the dog monster whined and tilted his head to show her his throat. She certainly didn’t taste the food her sister forced on her or take any warmth from the blanket draped over her shoulders. Only when the first artificial sparks of morning appeared did she stir from her fugue. In the distance, but getting closer all the while, she could hear excited barking. Lesser stood, tongue lolling and ears perked. He ventured a tentative _wruf?_ , tail wagging uncertainly.

Then the Dogi and Undyne’s recruit turned the corner, and Bonny stood. Briefly, she pulled Cinnamon close, then she turned to her sister and thrust him into her arms. “Take care of him,” she ordered, dropping the blanket from her shoulders. Harriet didn’t protest, just tucked the still-sleeping kit close and whispered soothing nothings as he twitched in thrall to uneasy dreams. Lesser tried to stop her, but not very hard. In the end, he simply followed in her wake, tail tucked between his legs.

The new lieutenant marched at the head of their small procession, followed by the Dogi. A bound Glyde was force-marched ahead of Dogaressa and just behind Dogamy. Seeing Bonny and Lesser, a flicker of irritation crossed the skeleton’s face, and he glared at his underling. “I told you to—“

Bonny stepped in front of him, knowing it was incredibly stupid to do so. Monsters like him, hopped up on LV and eager to prove their own viciousness, were quick to capitalize on any opportunity to do so. Showing disrespect to a member of the guard? Particularly to a guard like him? Very stupid. She was practically asking to be dusted. ~~Would that be so bad, though? Harriet could take care of Cinnamon. Bonny’d already failed as a mother once, surely Cinnamon didn’t need—~~ “What are you going to do with him?” she demanded, gesturing to the Glyde. If this snot-nosed _kid_ thought he would just take her kits’ murderer to the capital for the king’s laughable idea of ‘justice’, then he had another thing coming. Bonny could get one good shot off, could probably take out the Glyde, before the guards turned on her.

Bonny knew how this would play out, after all. She knew how this game worked. She’d been subject to it her entire life. What good was a rabbit monster in comparison to a Glyde? Even with 5 LV to her name, Bonny simply didn’t have the viciousness Asgore demanded of his monsters. A Glyde was infinitely more useful, once they had accrued some LV. So who cared if he was caught in the act of murdering her kits—not one of them out of stripes? Who cared that he had done so in the middle of a _safe zone_? She and her children were little more than EXP to be mined—there would be no justice for monsters like her. In the eyes of Asgore’s mercurial ‘law’, she was hardly a monster at all.

To her surprise, though, the skeleton just surveyed her, his gaze piercing. “I’m going to make an example of him,” he said. His voice was low-pitched and harsh, and he made it seem as if he was looking _through_ her, straight to her soul. It was incredibly disconcerting. “Step aside.”

Instinctively, she lifted a foot to do just that, then she exhaled hard and put her foot back down. “What does that mean? What are you going to do?” Her kits deserved some kind of justice. Even if Bonny had to take it herself.

The skeleton stepped up close, leaving less than a handspan of space between them, and Bonny internally quailed. She wanted to duck her head and get out of his way, wanted to flee, to hide. Every instinct she possessed urged her to do so…but she held her ground and stared up into his burning red eyelights. _Stars, he’s tall_. She swallowed tightly, hoping he couldn’t sense her nervousness. “Exactly what I said,” he growled, and she actually did shrink back in response. “Now. Step aside.” Her courage failed her, and this time, Bonny did as he asked, inwardly cursing herself. “A wise choice,” the skeleton said, “If you’re so concerned with his fate, then you may follow.”

Heart hammering and soul twisting, she nonetheless fell into step behind Dogaressa. She was shocked, honestly. She’d fully expected the skeleton to put her in her place—a quick backhand at best, maybe a reminder that she was nothing more than a two-bit whore, or perhaps something worse, if he was feeling particularly cruel—and adrenaline was making her light-headed now that she had nothing to run from and no one to fight.

As they entered Snowdin proper, the skeleton turned to the guard dogs and ordered, “Round up anyone old enough to be out of stripes. I will not be repeating myself.”

“Yeah, Boss.”

(“Got it, Boss.”)

Lesser yipped in reply. All of them bared their teeth and held their tails stiff. Then they dashed away to rouse the citizens of Snowdin. Bonny glanced at the Glyde, expecting him to try to escape, now that the skeleton was the only guard here to watch him. Instead, he cowered under the lieutenant’s glare. Curious, Bonny checked him.

**Giles the Glyde**

**LV 4**

**HP 1/340**

**AT *Higher than you think!**

**DF *Really, really high! Really!**

***He murdered your children.**

She blinked at his HP. No wonder he wasn’t trying to run. Even if the guard didn’t kill him for trying, he’d be free EXP for the next monster he encountered. Bonny furrowed her brows as a realization struck her. Taking a monster down to 1HP was not a simple feat. A monster would have to strip the killing intent from their attacks, while still maintaining the intent to do harm. That. That was impressive, especially for a monster with LV. LOVE might boost strength and defense and most, if not all, the hidden stats, but it typically stunted a monster’s control, making them not just emotionally volatile but magically unpredictable. She didn’t think either of the Dogi were capable of taking a monster down to 1HP without killing them.

Carefully, she glanced at the skeleton, taking in his haughty posture and demeanor. Around town, behind his back, people had started calling him ‘The Great and Terrible Papyrus’, after the introductory speech he’d made on coming to Snowdin—his wrath, apparently, was “both great and terrible”. No one was especially intimidated. They’d all seen a hundred other monsters just like him. More LV than sense. Thinking they were tough shit, just because their commanders had stuffed them into some Temmie-made armor and they’d managed to gain a bit of LV. Current bets placed his likelihood of living out the year at next to nothing, and speculation on what, exactly, he’d done to piss off Undyne ran high.

No. Monsters like him didn’t last long in ‘Dustdin’. Arrogance was only an asset if there was substance to back up the bravado.

_Striped-shirts were supposed to be safe, though, even in a place like Snowdin. Even the cruelest monster was supposed to hesitate before killing a child, let alone hunt them out while they were sleeping in their beds. Her kits were supposed to be safe at least until they were out of stripes they should have been safe in their burrow they should have been—_

She took a shuddering, hiccupping breath. The skeleton only glanced at her once before dismissing her from his mind. The town was gathering around them now, some of them still dressed in their nightclothes. All of them looked annoyed, and Bonny couldn’t help but wonder what ‘Great and Terrible’ thought he was doing. _Getting himself killed all the sooner_ , she thought, adjusting her coat. Her sister appeared beside her, passing Cinnamon back into her arms. Bonny opened her coat and tucked him inside, keeping him warm and protecting him from staring eyes. Out in the open, her sister didn’t dare risk more than a brief touch to her hand to demonstrate her affection.

 _What does it matter?_ Bonny thought, pressing the small, shaking body against her chest, _We’re nothing but prey to these people anyway, no matter what we do. A hole to fuck, if we’re lucky. A bit of EXP if we’re not_. It had been foolish of her to think that any of her children could have ever been more than that. The strong ruled the Underground, and a rabbit monster could never be counted among the strong. ~~Maybe it was better—~~

No. Even in the deepest pit of despair, she would _never_ allow herself to think that.

Finally, the last citizen was rounded up, and the skeleton stepped forward, hands behind his back and chin tilted up. A military stance he’d probably had beaten into him at the academy. He surveyed the crowd and, when he spoke, he made certain that everyone could hear. “APPARENTLY,” he said, projecting his voice seemingly without any effort, “I WAS NOT CLEAR, WHEN I SAID THAT I WAS HERE TO ENSURE THE KING’S LAWS WERE PROPERLY OBSERVED. SNOWDIN IS A SANCTIONED SAFE ZONE. WITHIN THESE WALLS—“ He gestured to the rough wall of cinderblock and metal paneling. “—THERE WILL BE NO FIGHTING. NO KILLING. NO _GRINDING FOR EXP_. IF YOU MUST FIGHT EACH OTHER, THEN YOU WILL EITHER TAKE IT OUTSIDE THESE WALLS, OR YOU WILL TAKE IT TO THE DUELING GROUNDS.” He smirked a little. “AND ALLOW US ALL THE OPPORTUNITY TO AT LEAST BET ON THE OUTCOME.” That startled a laugh out of a few people.

Others, however, were growing restless and irritated. Probably sensing his audience’s growing impatience, the skeleton gestured to the beaten Glyde. “THIS _WORM_ SEEMS TO FEEL THAT HE IS ABOVE OUR GRACIOUS KING’S LAWS.” Then with a sudden, sharp twist of his hand, a bone spear rose up from the ground and impaled the Glyde. Bonny took an instinctive step back, eyes wide. Her eyes only grew wider as the Glyde slipped a little on the bone construct, choking on a scream he didn’t have the lung capacity to produce anymore. But. He didn’t dust.

He only had 1HP. He should have dusted. He should have— _Sacred stars, why isn’t he dusting?_ Bonny wondered, heart rate rising and soul constricting. Then, she realized that there was no killing intent in the skeleton’s attack. It would do no HP damage…but it was more than capable of dealing physical damage. _Oh. Stars_. So long as the Glyde possessed even an ounce of magic, it wouldn’t kill him, but as soon as he ran out…. This was a slow, excruciating form of execution. Looking out over the crowd, she could see them all reaching the same conclusion she’d already arrived at. More interestingly, she could identify those monsters that hadn’t thought very deeply about the matter; they looked unimpressed, even amused. Others, however, were starting to glance at each nervously—or, in a few cases, hopefully—as they realized that this wasn’t just a public execution. It served not just to showcase their new guard’s capacity for cruelty…but his superior control.

She looked back at the Glyde, watching ichor drip down the sides of the bone construct as he struggled weakly. “I HOPE THIS DEMONSTRATION HAS CLARIFIED MATTERS FOR ALL OF YOU.” With that, he turned away, dismissing them. Gesturing Lesser Dog over, he muttered, “Guard the Glyde. I don’t want anyone to mine EXP from him.” Then he walked away, a small skeleton separating from the crowd to walk behind him.

Most of Snowdin’s citizenry started to disperse at that point, whispering amongst themselves, but Bonny lingered, looking up at the monster that had killed her kits. Initially, satisfaction swelled as she watched the Glyde struggle like a stuck insect, wing-fins fluttering uselessly and tail slashing at the air desperately. Her sister remained beside her, glaring up at the Glyde. Slowly, though, the satisfaction died away. She felt hollowed out. An aching, empty shell. This wouldn’t bring her children back. Nothing would. At least the Glyde wouldn’t be able to do this to another family, another mother, another child. But that was a small consolation.

She pressed an arm against Cinnamon’s warm body, hidden beneath her coat, then she turned away. Harriet called after her, but Bonny just kept walking. At 9, she’d open the shop. Just as she did every day. As if nothing had happened. As if— She inhaled sharply, features frozen and chest tight. She wouldn’t go back to the house today. The dust certainly wasn’t going anywhere in the meantime, and she didn’t think she had the strength to face it. Harriet wouldn’t mind if she and Cinnamon slept on her couch.

First, there was one bit of business she wanted to complete. Abacus was easy enough to find. He usually set up shop in the hollowed-out Librarby, and today was no different. The Loox leered at her as she entered—nevermind that her heavy winter coat and Cinna had rendered her shapeless. “Heya, sweetheart,” he said, grinning, “Ya freelancin’ now? Or has Grillbz started doin’ delivery?” A thick, wet tongue briefly flicked out to wet his sharp teeth.

Bonny jostled Cinna just enough to expose an ear. Abacus went red immediately and he scuffed his foot, looking at the floor. “I’m here on another kind of business, actually.” His pupil dilated and he re-focused his attention on her.

“Yeah?” he asked, digging out a leather-bound book. “Ya wanna make a bet, sweetheart?”

Fishing one hand into her pocket, she dug out her earnings from last night. She set it on the desk in front of the Loox and said, “Yes. On the new lieutenant.”

His grin transitioned into a smirk. “Alright. What’s yer dust-date? Third ‘a next month’s a popular date. Odd’s ‘r—“

“No,” she said, pushing the gold forward. “To live through the year.”

His eye widened—and considering most of his face was ‘eye’, it was a bit disconcerting to watch. “Ya sure ‘bout that, sweetheart? ‘s a longshot. Sure, the payout’d be nice…but it ain’t a winnin’ bet. Look, I like ya, so how ‘bout this? Ya take the kiddo home an’ come back ‘ere. Then we can…discuss the matter in private, huh? How’s that?” His jagged-toothed smile stretched, and he dragged his gaze from her toes all the way to the top of her head, lingering on a few places in between.

Bonny stood stiff and still. She was accustomed to this kind of behavior, even if she didn’t like it. “No. You heard me. Write it down—20G says he lives out the year.”

The Loox hesitated, then shrugged. “Fine,” he said, “ ‘s yer money. If ya wanna waste it….”

Bonny nodded and took the receipt from the Loox. Turning away from Abacus, she carefully tucked Cinnamon’s ear back into her coat. She had enough G saved up that she didn’t feel too guilty about the bet. The shop would bring in enough money for her to support herself and Cinna, and there would be enough left over to continue adding to her savings. Besides, after this morning’s show, she strongly suspected that there was something more to the new lieutenant than she’d previously believed—enough that she thought the risk was worth the, substantial, reward. And she could certainly use the extra G winning that particular bet would net her.

Bonny knew well what she was. A snow-bunny. A whore. Free EXP. But if you made yourself useful, if you allied yourself to the right monster, even the weak could survive Underground. She would make sure that Cinnamon grew up strong and acquired any skill that might keep him alive, might earn him the right allies. It wouldn’t be easy, but the deaths of her other children had only filled her with determination.

Cinna would live. Cinna would thrive. No matter the price, whether it was measured in G or in EXP, Bonny would pay it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Minor character death, death of child characters, graphic execution/torture ( **not** of the the children), prostitution, sexual harassment (verbal). Edge does morally questionable things for good reasons.
> 
>  
> 
> So, if anyone's confused about the Loox/Abacus thing, I've kind of decided that I'm going to use _some_ of the names used in the game as species types. So there are multiple Loox-es. This one's name is Abacus. (There are also multiple Glydes. This one was named Gyles.) Make sense?
> 
> Let me know what you think of this 'minisode'. I've got a couple pre-planned for Underfell, and might delve a bit into Swapfell too. As much as I love the skeletons, I do like to shine a spotlight on some of the minor players that make up their various universes.
> 
> Don't worry, though--next go 'round, we're going to be back with the skeles. : )


	3. Making the rounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Red pays each of his favorite skeletons a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Red POV. All four AUs. Primarily fluff and silliness. Some light angst. Really bad jokes. Cherryblossom.
> 
> Triggers: Brief mention of self-harm. That's it. This is a pretty happy chapter overall.

Hands stuffed into his pockets and head tilted up to survey his surroundings, Red walked through the Swapfell version of Snowdin forest. It felt like he was headed in the wrong direction, but otherwise, it was similar enough to his own universe. He and Boss didn’t have much of a presence here, but they’d been seen in Razz and Slim’s company enough that most EXP hunters were smart enough to let him pass by unmolested. Besides, the collar had meaning in any Fell-verse; they knew that if he dusted, a bigger, meaner monster was going to come after them.

Hopefully, Captain Asshole wasn’t anywhere close at hand, though. Red would really prefer not to run into his own alternate. He’d come here to see Slim, not the brat. Red had already checked Muffet’s and the skeleton brothers’ house and come up Slim-less, so he’d moved on to checking Slim’s sentry stations. He’d have teleported directly there, but startling Slim would have been a very bad idea, so Red resigned himself to walking at least part of the way there. As he turned the last corner, his grin broadened—Slim sat at his sentry station, his chin resting on his crossed arms and fingers tapping to the rhythm of whatever song he was currently listening to. With his hood pulled over his head like that, it looked like the voluminous fabric was swallowing him up.

Though it seemed liked Slim wasn’t paying much attention, his socket flared with violet magic and his control hand lifted before Red was close enough to launch a ranged attack. Just a moment later, he identified Red and allowed his hand to drop and his sockets to drift shut again. The display of trust warmed Red’s soul, and he lifted his chin a little, golden fang glinting wickedly. “heya, bro,” he said, levering himself up onto the sentry station’s counter. “didja have lunch yet?” he asked.

Slim cracked open a socket, brow-bone raised to indicate interest. Grinning, Red started digging through his inventory. “raided the fridge,” he lied, setting a food container on the counter. In fact, as soon as he’d announced his intentions to pay Slim a visit, Boss had packed him a lunch—with enough food for both him and Slim. Of course, he’d spent the entire time ranting that he wasn’t going to ‘allow them spend the whole day drinking and whoring at Swapfell Muffet’s establishment’. Heh. Boss was the best. “here. boss made ravioli.” He passed over a fork, and speared a few squares on his own before popping them into his mouth. “ ‘s good,” he slurred around the mouthful.

Completely inured to Red’s sloppy eating habits, Slim accepted the fork and carefully studied the pasta. He poked the leftovers a few times, as if he expected his food to bite back, then he took a tentative bite. Red tried to monitor him without being obvious about it—Boss hated it when people watched while he ate, so Red had plenty of practice with that. After a few more experimental bites, Slim’s hunger seemed to ignite, and he ate rapidly, gaze darting about— almost like he was afraid someone was going to try to take it from him.

Something inside of Red unclenched, and he leaned back against the station’s support beam. Perhaps Slim knew how to protect himself, but he certainly didn’t know how to prioritize his own needs. Red knew what that felt like, knew he was guilty of the same thing. But Red at least had Boss, who was constantly on his ass about eating properly—which gave Red the opportunity to pressure Boss to do the same, so he forgave the hypocrisy—and sleeping at appropriate times and in appropriate places. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine the brat doing the same for Slim. And fuck if Red was going to let a Papyrus—any Papyrus—go without the necessary looking after.

Red, eating more out of habit and to reassure Slim that the food was safe than out of actual hunger, ate more slowly, punctuating bites of ravioli with the bits of gossip he’d managed to gather. Slim didn’t say anything, but he cocked his head at the most interesting parts or chuckled quietly when Red said something amusing. Slim wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but he was a good listener.

“how’s rus?” And when he did talk, he usually packed a lot of meaning into very few words.

“fuck off!” Red replied, aiming a swipe at the other skeleton’s skull. He was blushing, though, and Slim’s skeletal smile had stretched into a shit-eating grin. “he’s _fine_ , asshole.” Huffing, he realized his mistake when Slim’s grin only grew—impossibly—wider. “shut. up.” Slim raised a brow-bone. “ya don’ hafta say the pun fer me ta know yer thinkin’ it,” Red snapped, arms crossed. He was trying not to grin, though. He wondered, sometimes, how many monsters actually got to see the other skeleton like this: relaxed and amused and _playful_. “ya think yer real clever, doncha?” he demanded, pretending to glare down at Slim, who just shrugged expansively—as if to say, ‘I call it like I see it. You got a problem with that?’

Asshole.

“well,” Red said, leaning back against the station’s support beam, “smartass, what if i told ya that boss an’ stretch have been sniffin’ around each other, huh?” Slim waved him off and went back to eating, obviously not falling for whatever prank he thought Red was playing. Red just smirked and sketched an ‘X’ over his sternum. “cross my shriveled black soul,” he said, snickering, “even the fuckin’ blueberry’s actin’ like he wants a piece. an’ i mean…they ain’t fightin’ over ‘im. those tale-verse monsters, bro, they might act all innocent, but they’re a buncha kinky bastards deep down.” He still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the Swap brothers’ sudden interest in Boss…but he was more than willing to use the novelty of it to lure in his brother’s other alternate.

Slim sat up straight—well, as straight as he ever did—and crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. “still don’ believe me?” Red asked, trying to hold in a smirk. Slim pointed at Red, then made a dismissive motion with his hand. Calling him on his bullshit. “if yer so sure, ya wanna bet on it?”

Slim’s sockets narrowed as he examined Red, weighing him. Trying to decide how far he thought Red would take a prank. Finally, Slim lifted his chin and asked, “stakes?” Pretty far, apparently.

“bottle ‘a mustard against a bottle ‘a caramel.” Condiments were more interesting than G, but still easy enough to find to keep the bet friendly. And Red needed to keep this bet friendly, since he knew he’d already won.

“conditions?”

“ya come with me ta movie night in undertale. i’ll convince boss ta come, an’ then ya judge fer yerself. ya think sumthin’s goin’ on ‘tween ‘em, then ya gimme a bottle ‘a mustard. there ain’t? then i give ya a bottle ‘a caramel.”

Slim considered for a moment, head cocked. Then something sly crossed his features, there and gone again in a blink. Trying to keep his expression neutral, Red made a mental note to bring a bottle of caramel. This was a sure bet…but Red did not trust that expression. If he gave a shit about the actual bet, he might have pursued it. As it was, though, he just grinned and held out his hand. “deal?”

Slim was not impressed. He grasped Red’s wrist, and turned his hand over, revealing the joy buzzer hidden in Red’s palm. Slim raised a brow-bone, and Red just chuckled, shrugging. “heh. worth a shot, right?” When Slim released him, he stuffed the buzzer back into his inventory and held out a closed fist instead.

They bumped, and Slim said, “deal.”

Perfect.

 

From the cave where they kept the machine, Red teleported directly home—Boss kept a mat in the corner for Red to wipe his shoes off. Since Red wasn’t sure of Boss’ current mood, he obediently wiped his feet and kicked off his shoes. He didn’t bother stacking them in the closet, though. It’d give Boss something to do later. As he did so, he made sure to announce himself, so he wouldn’t surprise Boss.

From the back of the couch, Doomfanger—called ‘Fang’ since Boss wasn’t nine years old anymore—looked up at him, its remaining eye slitted. He made a face at the cat, again wondering how the fuck the damn thing managed to keep finding them. Every time he thought he’d seen the last of the hellcat, it would turn up out of the blue and make itself at home. It had even managed to find them after Undyne sent them to live in Snowdin. Boss didn’t even worry about it’s extended disappearances anymore, saying that the cat was apparently better equipped to survive on its own than Red was. Fang just blinked—winked?—at him and laid back down, dismissing Red.

Quietly, Red peered into the kitchen. It was not especially worrying to find Boss working in the kitchen, but it was important to determine what he was doing before Red tried to engage with him. If Boss was cleaning, then it was usually better to just let him be until he wore himself out— _so long as he’s not doin’ anything_ stupid, _like soakin’ ‘is arms in fuckin’ bleach again—_ and if he was baking…. Well, Red had that broken down into a few different categories. Simple shit—cookies, basic cakes, biscuits, and the like—meant that boss was either bored, or he wanted something to do with his hands. Yeast breads or anything that required kneading meant that Boss was pissed and wanted something that wouldn’t be destroyed by indelicate handling. Complicated shit—soufflés, croissants, certain varieties of pie, etcetera—meant that boss wanted something to occupy his hands and his mind, which by extension, usually meant that Boss was trying really hard to hold his shit together and Red needed to be ready to catch him when he finally let go.

It wasn’t a perfect system. Sometimes Boss just felt like making chocolate soufflé— _that_ had been an awkward afternoon—but it had served Red pretty well for the most part. Right now, it looked like Boss was just making dinner, so Red was pretty comfortable strolling into the kitchen and leaning against the counter beside him. “hey, boss, got a joke fer ya.”

Boss, busy sautéing the vegetables, didn’t look up at him. “I don’t want to hear one of your—“

“whaddaya call a guy with no arms an’ no legs, hangin’ on the wall?”

“Sans, I said—“

“art.” He grinned while Boss’s head dropped, thumb pressed into the space between his sockets. “ya know, short fer ‘arthur’.”

“Yes, Sans, I get it. It’s just not funny.”

“didn’ say it was a funny joke.” The lady behind the door had liked— His mind shied away from thinking about her. That wound was still too raw. _dirty promise-breaker_. Pushing down any unpleasant thoughts, he scooted along the counter to get closer to his brother. “so, boss,” he said, not bothering to try for a casual tone, “are ya gonna come ta movie night this month?” Boss’s hand stilled briefly, then he went back to stirring the vegetables. His features had stiffened, though, and Red could already hear him saying ‘no’. “ya said ya’d try an’ spend more time in the tale-verses,” he reminded him. Blue had all but refused to let them go until he’d extracted that promise from Boss. Shifting his weight a little, Boss made a noncommittal grunt, and Red decided it was time to play dirty. “stretch an’ blue’ll be there.”

Boss glanced at him. “Subtle,” he said flatly.

“aw, c’mon, boss. what’s the matta? afraid ya might actually have fun?”

“Why is this so important to you?” he asked, pausing to survey Red with narrowed sockets. Oh, shit. Red could feel the guilt clawing at his spine as Boss looked him up and down. “What do you get out of this?”

Red swallowed, trying not to squirm. Sweat beaded on his skull, and with a sigh, he broke. Looking at the floor, he confessed, “made a bet with slim.”

To his surprise, Boss didn’t seem to really care about the ‘bet’ portion of that statement. “You convinced Slim to come?”

“uh, yeah? he ain’t as hardheaded as you are, boss.” That earned him a light cuff to the back of the skull. Rubbing that spot, he complained, “or as pissy.”

“Watch it, or I’m not feeding you tonight.”

Well, that was an empty threat if Red had ever heard one…but he still wasn’t too keen to test his brother. “so, are ya gonna come er not?”

Boss didn’t reply immediately. He turned the heat down low and covered the vegetables before turning his gaze on Red. “What are the conditions of the bet?”

Red’s eyelights went out. “ya know what? nevamind. ‘s fine. i‘ll jus’ tell slim he won an’—“

He tried to slip away, but Boss caught him by the collar and pulled him back. “I take it that the bet requires that I attend?” Not entirely sure where Boss was going with this, Red shrugged.

“uh, yeah?”

“So, if I don’t come, then Slim won’t either. Correct?”

Now Red was starting to get the picture, and he had to fight down a grin. “nope,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too pleased with himself. “he wouldn’ have any reason ta come if yer not there, boss.” Judging by Boss’ unimpressed expression, Red hadn’t done a very good job of hiding his mounting excitement.

Rolling his eyes, Boss said, “Fine. I’ll come. If only to get Slim out of Swapfell for a few hours. Will Razz be attending as well?”

“stars, i hope not.” Boss just nodded, and Red took the opportunity to slip away, heading for the living room. Best to escape before Boss could—

“We’ll be discussing the nature of that bet later, Sans.”

Damn it.

 

“heh. so,” Red said, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette, “a pirate walks inta a bar, an’—“

“wait, wait,” Paps said, “i know this one. there’s a steering wheel stuck to his pants, right?”

Red rolled his eyelights. “ _no_. he’s—wait. a steerin’ wheel?”

Paps grinned at him, leaning against the wall. His leg was bouncing slightly, jittery. “yeah. this pirate walks into a bar. bartender takes one look at him and says, ‘you know you’ve got a steering wheel stuck to your pants, right?’ and the pirate says, ‘yarrh, i know. it’s drivin’ me nuts.’ ” They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Red cracked up, covering his face.

“fuck, stretch, tha’s worse’n mine.”

Paps seemed pleased with this, though his free hand was still picking at the front of his hoodie. “so how’s yours go, then?”

Clearing his throat and schooling his features, Red said, “this pirate walks in with a hook fer a hand and an eye-patch. bartender looks at ‘im an’ says, ‘ya look awful! what happened?’ Pirate says, ‘whaddaya mean?’ the bartender says, ‘well, ya ain’t had the hook las’ time i saw ya.’ so the pirate tells ‘im he lost the hand in a swordfight. then the bartender asks, ‘what happened ta yer eye, then?’” Grinning, Red paused to take a drag off his cigarette. He looked up at the ceiling of rock overhead and continued, “pirate says, ‘i was out on the deck one day, lookin’ up at the sky, an’ a seagull flew overhead.’” Still grinning, Red sketched the movement of the imagined bird overhead.

Paps asked skeptically, “he lost his eye ‘cause a bird shit in it?”

“nah,” Red said, scratching at his socket, “it was ‘is first day with the hook.”

Paps snickered. “nope. sorry, kiddo, but that one is _way_ worse than mine.” He eyed the butt in his hand, then stubbed it out on the wall behind him with a sigh. He dropped it, adding it to the growing pile. Red had lost count of how many he’d gone through and was honestly starting to wonder if skeletons could succumb to nicotine poisoning. Thankfully, Paps seemed to be concerned about the same thing, ‘cause he didn’t pull out the pack again.

“did blue er rus pick a movie yet?” Red asked abruptly, not wanting the silence to linger.

Raising a brow-bone, Paps shrugged. It looked a bit like he was trying to sink into the wall. “dunno. maybe. i think it’s rus’ turn this time, isn’t it? why?” They both knew that Red didn’t come to movie night for the movies.

For a moment, Red considered not telling him. For his bet with Slim, it would probably go better for him if Paps was surprised to see Boss. Furthermore, he really wasn’t sure he wanted to encourage this little crush. Sure, he’d told Boss he wouldn’t interfere, but that wasn’t the same as giving his approval. But he could tell that Paps needed something to look forward to, and Red wasn’t going to deny him that. “got boss ta agree ta come with me,” he said casually.

Paps’ head jerked up a little, and his skeletal grin took on a more genuine cast. “yeah? how’d you manage that?”

“oh, ya know, the usual. bribery. blackmail. a little arson.”

“a _little_ arson? how’s that work?”

“ya only set small fires.”

Paps snorted, shaking his head. His grip on his hoodie had loosened a little, though, and his shoulders weren’t as tense. “how’s he doing, anyway? i mean, we’ve texted but…you know how edge is.”

Red snickered. “oh, he’s fine. pissed ‘cause undyne put ‘im on desk duty fer the next couple ‘a weeks, though. says its ‘is punishment fer ‘disorderly conduct’ er some shit. really, she jus’ hates doin’ paperwork.” And, even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud, he knew Undyne was worried that Boss might not be fully healed yet.

Seemed like Paps knew that too. “any chance i could convince you to send her a fruit basket or something as thanks?”

“depends. can i fill it with rotten fruit?”

“no.”

“what about—“

“no fish heads. no fish guts. no fish parts in general, you little sociopath.”

“well, damn. guess undyne’ll jus’ have ta go without.” They were quiet for a few minutes, then Red looked away and, making an effort to sound casual, asked, “ya wanna go in?”

Paps looked to the side, eyeing the café’s window. He took a breath and held it, thinking. Then he looked at the ground, toeing the pile of cigarette butts. “nah. not today. maybe next time.” His hand was tight around his hoodie again. He was going to stretch out the material, if he kept doing that.

“sure, stretch. whatever ya wanna do ‘s fine with me.”

“thanks,” he said, relaxing a little. He swallowed and dug his lighter out of his hoodie pocket, toying with it. “have you heard the one about the army that ran out of rifles?”

 

Red was trying to be good. He really was. But it was really hard to think platonic thoughts while Rus was squeezing him against his chest and purring. “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU, CHERRY~!”

“ ‘s nuthin’, creampuff,” he said nervously, hoping that the other monster couldn’t feel the heat eminating from his soul. “i mean, i didn’ really do anything….”

“DON’T BE RIDICULOUS,” Rus said, pulling back so he could look Red in the socket. “YOU CONVINCED _BOTH_ EDGY-ME AND SMALL-ME TO COME TO MOVIE NIGHT—NO SMALL FEAT! SUCH A MAGNIFICENT EFFORT DESERVES AN EQUALLY MAGNIFICENT REWARD, BUT WHAT…?” Rus paused, melodramatically stroking his chin to indicate that he was giving this serious subject the appropriate consideration.

 _oh, stars, i think he’s tryna kill me_. “n-nuthin’!” Red said, holding up his hands, “i, uh, i don’ need nuthin’!”

Rus surveyed him critically, then grinned broadly. “I KNOW; FOR YOUR REWARD, YOU CAN SELECT THE MOVIE FOR THIS EVENING~.”

Red honestly couldn’t decide if he was relieved or incredibly disappointed. “s-sounds good, creampuff.” He was not prepared for Rus to suddenly heft him up and lever him onto his back, so Red was being carried piggyback. Automatically, Red wrapped his arms around Rus’ neck and settled his legs on top of Rus’ pelvic girdle. Rus didn’t seem to have a problem with this, but Red went, well, _red_ immediately.

“COMFORTABLE?”

Red swallowed, trying to control the rapid pulsations of his soul. “nhg?”

“WHAT?”

Clearing his throat—and mentally cursing himself for being an idiot—Red said, more clearly, “yeah, ‘m comf’table. but, uh, creampuff? where’re we goin’?” _and why’d ya have ta carry me?!_ Not that he was going to complain. Rus might put him down, and even if Red was trying to be good…he wasn’t going to say no to an opportunity like this.

“TO UNDYNE’S!” Rus proclaimed, “YOU ARE GOING TO SCOUR HER MOVIE COLLECTION AND SELECT FOR US THE PERFECT MOVIE!”

“…uh, am i allowed ta pick just an ‘okay’ movie? tryna find the perfect one’s too much pressure fer me.”

Rus laughed happily. “OH, CHERRY~, WHATEVER MOVIE YOU PICK WILL BE PERFECT—I’M SURE OF IT. BESIDES, YOU KNOW EDGY-ME AND SMALL-ME BEST; DESPITE MY OWN GREATNESS, YOU ARE THE SKELETON BEST EQUIPPED TO FIND A MOVIE THAT WE CAN ALL ENJOY!”

Settling into a more comfortable position— _fucking stars, i can feel his ribcage through this sweater—_ Red chuckled a little. “why do i get the feelin’ that my ‘reward’ is jus’ an excuse fer ya ta pawn the choice off on some other poor sap?”

“CHERRY!” Rus gasped, “I AM _OFFENDED_. APPALLED, IN FACT. THAT IS PATENTLY ABSURD. WHOLLY UNTRUE. THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NEVER TRY TO SHIRK HIS RESPONSIBILITIES. EVEN IF THE PRESSURE TO CHOOSE THE RIGHT MOVIE IS QUITE HIGH. AFTER ALL, IF EDGY-ME AND SMALL-ME ENJOY THEMSELVES TONIGHT, THEN THEY MIGHT COME TO MORE MOVIE NIGHTS IN THE FUTURE! BUT IF THEY DON’T HAVE FUN, OR IF THEY THINK THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ MOVIE CHOICE IS INADEQUATE OR-OR BORING OR—childish.” Rus swallowed before soldiering on. “THEN THEY MIGHT NOT COME BACK, AND THAT IS WHOLLY UNACCEPTABLE!” He paused. “WHAT WAS I SAYING?”

“that yer not jus’ tryna force someone else ta decide for ya.”

“RIGHT!” Rus said brightly, “THAT WOULD BE RIDICULOUS. _RIDICULOUS_ , I TELL YOU!”

Red relaxed further, resting his chin on Rus collar bone and allowing his sockets to drop to half-mast. The other monster’s warmth sank into his bones, heating him despite the chill of Snowdin. “s’cool, creampuff. don’ worry too much ‘bout it. they ain’ comin’ ta movie night fer the movie.”

“WHAT?” Rus asked, waving his arms around a little wildly. “THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE! THAT IS THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF MOVIE NIGHT—TO WATCH A MOVIE!”

Red snickered, squeezing Rus’ shoulders briefly. “nah. movie night ain’ about the movie. ‘s not why i keep comin’, at least.”

Rus faltered momentarily. “WHAT? THEN—WHY?”

“ta spend time with ya.” Rus stopped entirely, turning his head as best he could to look back at Red. Both skeletons were blushing fiercely at this point. Red turned away and cleared his throat. “i, uh, i mean. ta spend time with all a’ ya. paps an’ blue an’-an’ _you_.” After a moment, he added, “sans too, i guess.”

“OH. I, UM. I SEE.”

Did he? “yeah. so. boss an’ slim aren’t gonna care ‘bout the movie. in-in fact, i think boss actually likes watchin’ movies that he can gripe ‘bout later. ‘s fun fer ‘im, pickin’ ‘em apart, figurin’ out why he don’ like ‘em.” Red considered for a moment. “might hafta gag ‘im, though; he’ll talk if ya let ‘im.”

“CHERRY, WE ARE NOT _GAGGING_ EDGY-ME. BLUE AND LAZY-ME MIGHT ENJOY THAT TOO MUCH.”

“ngh?!” Red couldn’t really manage a coherent response to that, and Rus’s cheekbones—already orange—darkened further.

They eyed each other awkwardly for a few seconds, then Rus inhaled sharply and said in a rush, “I’MGOINGTORUNTHERESTOFTHEWAY. CAN’TTALKANYMORE.” Then, as promised, he took off running, forcing Red to cling more tightly to him. His sockets went wide, but soon enough the awkwardness had worn off and they were enjoying themselves again.

“think ya can go faster?”

“OF COURSE I CAN—“ He took a breath. “—GO FASTER! I’M—“

“the great papyrus. yeah, save yer breath an’ _prove it_ , creampuff.” By the time they reached the entrance to Waterfall, Rus was running at a rather impressive speed. Particularly considering he had a small—but not especially light—skeleton clinging to his back. Red was whooping with glee and shouting encouragement, and Rus seemed to be enjoying the chance to stretch his legs.

Then they reached Sans’ sentry station, and catching sight of his alternate’s wide sockets, Red resigned himself to the fact that, as soon as they reached Undyne’s, Sans was going to be waiting for them. Grinning at the other skeleton, Red just gripped Rus tighter. Welp, if living in Underfell had taught him one thing, it was to enjoy the good times while they lasted.

“hey, creampuff, wanna take the long way?”

“ALREADY AHEAD OF YOU, CHERRY.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol. I love Red and his (mostly) platonic Papyrus harem.
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, one thing I do want to mention. I promise you guys, nothing bad will happen to Doomfanger. Some of you are probably really confused that I feel the need to say this. But there is a subset of you out there that are like me and tend to get anxiety as soon as an animal--especially a cat or a dog--appears in a work of fiction with darker elements and themes, because you know that something terrible is going to happen to it. (Horror movies are the most infamous for this.) 
> 
> Doomfanger is safe. I promise.
> 
> And, yes, I will also write a story for Movie Night. Honestly, I was going to include it here, but I ran out of room.


	4. What's mine is yours, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paps doesn't know how sharing works, but Blue's done his research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Spicyhoney. Edgeberry. The Swapbros. Discussion of polyamory. Angst. (Always.) Very mild sexual humor. No Swapcest. (I mean, I guess if you want to view it that way? You can? It won't bother me, but that wasn't the intention.) 
> 
> Trigger warning: None.

Paps’ immediate reaction to Blue’s question was to feign ignorance. “you know me, bro,” he said nervously, “what’s mine is yours, right? something you’re looking to borrow?”

“Papy, that’s not what I—“

“oh, look at that! looks like the store’s open—how nice!” He started babbling about the store and the bunny monster that ran it hoping Blue’s sockets would glaze over, signaling he was willing to drop the issue.

Instead, Blue’s fingers caught on Paps’ sleeve, firm and unyielding. “Papy,” he said, then sighed softly. “I thought…I thought, now that you knew more about me, you might be more willing to treat me like—“ Blue’s breath hitched and he said, softer now, “Like an adult.” He was looking at the ground, unable or unwilling to look up. “If the answer is no, or if you’re not comfortable talking about this, then please, Papy, just _tell me_. Don’t pretend you didn’t understand me. Please.”

Paps looked to the side, though Blue couldn’t see his expression. “sorry, bro,” he said softly, scratching at the mark on his sternum. “i just…you kind of sprung that on me, huh? can you maybe give me a bit? let me think?”

Even without looking, he could feel Blue smiling up at him. “Of course, Papy~!” he chirped. “Take all the time you need!”

Then Blue was bouncing on ahead, and Paps sighed in relief. He tried to put the matter aside, tried not to think about it—despite what he’d said—but Blue’s words preyed on him. His mind kept spinning around that question. _(“How do you feel about sharing?”)_ And he kept thinking about all the little things he’d simply dismissed as innocent or even teasing. The way Edge and Blue would exchange looks—like they understood each other in a way that Paps never would. The way Blue, smooth and confident, had lightly touched his teeth to Edge’s cheekbone. ( _“I don’t know Edge. I think you’re pretty cute.”_ ) The flirtatious remarks. _(“You know Edge, you meet all my standards.”) (“His bed? Or mine?”)_

After they got the carton of milk and started back home, Paps asked, “bro, how long have you been interested in the edgelord?”

Blue glanced up at him, smiling slightly. A faint blue flush colored his cheekbones. “A while,” he said carefully, kicking at the snow poffs. The blush darkened and he added, “Since…since we first met him.”

Paps’ sockets widened. “that long, huh?” he asked, trying to sound casual. And trying not to mentally kick himself. He hadn’t even noticed. Had…had Blue been hiding it from him? Afraid of his reaction? Stars, he wanted to deny the possibility, but the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Paps would never have approved of such a relationship—not prior to this little venture. Of course Blue would keep his crush a secret; he wouldn’t have wanted to upset Paps or to give him yet another reason to hate Edge.

Sometimes, Paps really wanted to go back in time and kick has past self.

Blue nodded in response, still blushing faintly. “Not that I’m not happy for you!” the small skeleton was quick to say, smiling up at him. “I’m so proud of you both~!” Blue was probably the only monster Paps knew that could say that about his crush and his brother becoming romantically entangled and mean it. And if there was a trace of sadness in his smile, well, that was to be expected.

Unable to resist, Paps reached out and knuckled the top of Blue’s head gently. “thanks, bro,” he said, then steeled himself. “so, you wanted to talk about, uh, sharing?”

Blue’s grin broadened. “Yes,” he said firmly. Then, clearing his throat and adopting a formal tone, he asked, “Papy, how would you feel if both of us started dating Edge? Assuming he’d be open to it, of course.”

It wasn’t an easy question to answer, and Paps’ first instinct was to dance around the subject. Blue’s earlier words were haunting him, though, and he knew he owed it to his brother to at least consider the question. He stopped in the middle of the road, thankful that it was still early enough that Snowdin was still pretty much deserted. “i—“ He stopped. The thing was, the idea did bother him. Because, between himself and Blue…he knew who the better monster was. He wanted to be able to tell Blue that it was fine, that Blue was free to pursue the other Papyrus, but he could see how it would unfold in his mind’s eye.

Blue and Edge, already so alike in so many ways, could only grow closer. Paps simply didn’t think there would be any room for him. He ignored the inner voice that reminded him that Edge had been pretty enthusiastic about returning Paps’ affections the night before. He ignored the flirtatious remarks Edge had occasionally shot back at him, and the honest concern he’d seen in Edge’s eyelights. _(“What’s your number?”)_

Because, when it came down to it, Blue’s desires were more important than his own. Silently, he mourned what could have been. He pushed down memories of how _good_ it had felt to press himself into the other skeleton—in a simple hug or in a fierce kiss. Or how safe he felt, enfolded in Edge’s arms and buoyed by his steadying projections. He ignored the ache in his soul—and how it seemed to irritate the mark on his chest. It simply wasn’t in his nature to deny his brother something like this—not for his own sake. Maybe if he still thought Edge would hurt Blue—thought Edge was _capable_ of hurting Blue—then, yeah, he’d probably fight tooth and claw to keep them apart. And drive them closer in the process, knowing them. As it was, though, he couldn’t keep his younger brother from the monster he’d had a crush on since their first meeting, particularly since he could guess that Blue had only held off pursuing his crush because he didn’t want to upset his unfairly biased older brother.

His fingers curled, digging in to the mark. Pain flared, and he could breathe. “heh. c’mon, bro, you know i don’t have a jealous bone in my body. of course i won’t mind.”

Blue stared up at him, apparently unable to decide if he should be angry or—disappointed? That…that wasn’t quite the reaction he was hoping for. “Papyrus….”

Oh, no, not the full name—Paps really needed to double down. “hey, the more the merrier, right? besides, don’t they say sharing is caring? besides, we share pretty much everything else already, why not—?”

“ _Papyrus_ ,” Blue said. Not sharply, exactly, but certainly emphatically. They both stood silently for a few seconds, just looking at each other. It took him a while, but Paps slowly realized that he was shaking slightly. Blue sighed and took his hand, pulling it away from the mark on his chest. “I’m sorry,” Blue said, looking at the ground, “I…I messed up. I didn’t go about this the right way.” He squeezed his brother’s hand between his smaller digits. “I was just so happy, when you two started getting along. And—when I thought you might be _interested_ in each other?”

Blue looked up at him, smiling sadly. “I was so happy for you, Papy. I still am. I would never take that away from you—not for a silly crush, not for anything. It’s just…it seemed like a simple solution. You like him. He likes you. I like him. And…I think he likes me too. Why choose? Why not both of us? Edge is kind of starved for affection anyway, and it just seemed natural that he would need two monsters to show him how much he’s loved.” Those words cut through Paps, leaving a line of warmth in their wake. “And who could do that better than you and me?” Blue smiled sadly, then swallowed and looked away. Paps’ fingers tightened around his brother’s hand, trying to draw him back. “But I couldn’t do it if either of us felt like a…a _spare_. If we both decide to date him, and if he wants both of us, then I could never be happy if I thought I was an addendum or an extra. Or if I thought you felt that way. So, Papy, can we just…pretend I didn’t ask? Can we—?” He squeaked when Paps swooped down and scooped him up into a tight hug. Despite his surprise, Blue hugged him back, relaxing into his brother’s grip.

When Paps finally released him, Blue was beaming up at him, the stars back in his eyes. “Mweh heh heh~! You give the best hugs, brother!”

Paps reached out and slung an arm over Blue’s shoulders. Then he asked, “so how’re this going to work?”

“How’s what going to work?”

“sharing.”

Blue’s sockets widened. “Papy,” he said slowly, “you don’t need to— I really meant it, when I said I was happy for you.”

“yeah, bro, i know. and you meant what you said about not being a spare, right? and…about showing the edgelord our, um, strong positive feelings for him?” The way Blue had described it, suddenly, sharing Edge didn’t feel like a competition Paps couldn’t win, but a way to work together to prove to Edge that he deserved the kind of love and affection he’d probably never really had. From that angle…how could he not find the idea appealing? “so? how’re we doing this?”

Blue’s irises briefly burst into hearts before he managed to get himself back under control; there was a somewhat delirious quality to his smile now, though. “Well,” Blue said, his mouth starting to run away with him, “my Advanced Dating guide says that a healthy poly relationship has many of the same qualities of a healthy monogamous relationship which means we’re going to have to work on maintaining open and honest communication with each other and of course we’ll need to talk to Edge and make sure that he’s open to a less conventional relationship and to work out all the details but first—“ He took a breath, and the faint cyan flush returned to Blue’s cheekbones. His eyelights dipped in his sockets, unable to meet Paps’ gaze. “Um. I think. Uh.” He rubbed the back of his neck and said quickly, “I don’t know how Edge will feel about formalized dating so we’ll probably have to approach this unconventionally so we don’t scare him off!”

Paps’ brow-bone raised and Blue’s blush darkened. “bro. are you suggesting that we _trick_ the edgelord into dating us?”

“No! _No!_ What kind of monster do you think I am!? No,” Blue said emphatically. He took a breath and said, thoughtfully, “We’ll just…have to go about this carefully. We need to make him feel welcome and happy and good…but we can’t pressure him to commit more of himself than he’s comfortable giving. That’s all.”

Unable to resist, Paps snickered. “bro, you basically just described how to tame a stray cat, and given your track record, i don’t think we’re going to have any trouble.”

A dark look crossed Blue’s face. “That blasted feline is not tame.” He huffed and crossed his arms; he still hadn’t forgiven her for her last rampage.

Paps’ grin grew. “you fed her, kiddo. you invited her into our home. she may not be tame, but we’re definitely stuck with her.” Despite Blue’s act, he loved the Annoying Cat—he just hated how destructive the creature could be.

Rolling his eyelights, Blue said, “Yes, well, I’m sure Edge is going to need more than food and a warm bed to be tamed.”

His word choice caused Paps to shudder, magic starting to gather in his mandible. Swallowing it down, he glanced at Blue and noted the deep blue flush on his brother’s cheekbones. They scrupulously looked away from each other, both of them needing a moment to collect themselves before continuing the conversation. “so,” Paps said, once he thought he’d be able to speak without choking, “i think we should probably get back to the house, before they send out a search party.”

“Oh, right—we can finish this discussion later~!”

Paps swallowed, still a little nervous, but nodded. This…this seemed like it could be a good thing, despite his initial insecurities. As they walked, though, he couldn’t help but ask, “bro…what if he only wants one of us?”

Smiling up at him, Blue laid a hand atop Paps’, still slung over Blue’s shoulder. “Brother, if he doesn’t want me, then I will be happy just to see both of you happy.” He said it with finality, as if there was nothing else to discuss. Paps ducked his head, soul full to bursting.

He had the best little brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was literally my most requested request. I'm sorry I didn't get it out to you guys last week. And I'm sorry it's so short. I actually had about 3000 words written...and had to scrap everything. Some of it will probably be re-used later, but I was basically trying to cram too many ideas in at once. I forgot to let the story breathe.
> 
> Anyway, I do apologize I didn't get it out sooner. My intention is to alternate between Bone Shards and Telling Tales, but that just didn't work out this time. I'm sorry.


	5. Proper hugging etiquette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a bet is settled and Slim makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Slim POV. All eight skeletons. All four AUs. Spicyhoney. Edgeberry. Cherryblossom (hinted at). Slim needs love. Slim gets love. (Razz needs love. Razz gets no love, but it's his own fault.) Fluff & Angst. Hurt/Comfort.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Self-harm.

Slim took a breath, hands clenched and chest tight. Okay. He could do this. This shouldn’t be hard. This was a perfectly normal thing, that perfectly normal people did literally every day. He could do this. He could _do_ this. Okay. Just. He took another breath and raised a fist to knock. From the other side, a voice bid him to enter. He allowed himself another shaky breath, then he slipped inside, head down. Razz, studying what appeared to be a map of the Underground, didn’t even glance up at him before he demanded, “Make it quick, dog. I’m busy.”

Slim’s nonexistent throat closed up immediately, and no matter how he tried, he couldn’t force the words from his mouth. Slowly, Razz looked up at him, brow-bone raised. “Really?” he asked with a sneer, “Did you honestly come in here just to stare at me? Or have you finally lost the ability to speak entirely?”

Breathing hard but trying to control himself, Slim clutched the front of his jacket and forced himself to say, “ ‘m going to rus and sans’ place. for a movie.” A bet, really, but he was hardly going to explain that to Razz.

Looking back at the map, Razz jotted down a few notes. “Good. I’ll be glad to have you out from underfoot.”

This. This was the difficult part. “do…?” He took a breath and shut his sockets. When he finally managed to speak, his voice was so soft that Razz glared up at him.

“Were those supposed to be actual words? Or are you choking one of those infernal candies you’re always sucking on?”

Shrinking in on himself even further, Slim reached into one sleeve and raked his claws over the inner side of his ulna, using the pain as a focus. “do you want to come?” he asked more loudly.

Slowly, Razz set down his pen and gave Slim his full attention for the first time that evening—well, that week, but who was keeping track? “Do I want…? You’re joking, right?” Slim swallowed nervously but shook his head. No, he wasn’t joking. Razz stared at him in disbelief, and Slim waited for the anger, waited for his brother to lash out at him. Instead, Razz looked back down at the map. “No,” he said firmly, “I’ve got too much work to do. I don’t have time for such nonsense.”

Slim stood there awkwardly, wondering if he should remind Razz that today was, technically, their day off. Or that it had been months since Razz had allowed himself a break, not counting time taken to convalesce after his injuries. Or that—“even alphys used to take time off, captain.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wrapped his fingers around his ulna, trying to convince himself not to break it. Razz glared up at him, sockets narrowed and eyelights blazing.

“Alphys,” he hissed, “is a _traitor_. Are you implying that I have anything in common with that lizard?” When Slim didn’t answer, Razz snarled, “ _Are you_?”

Unable to speak, Slim just shook his head frantically, breathless and shaking. He hadn’t meant it like that. Not at all. He was just worried. Razz was going to burn out if he kept this up—working around the clock, barely sleeping, barely eating, not taking any time for himself. No matter how much he might want to express that, though, he couldn’t find the words, and even if he could, Razz wouldn’t listen anyway.

“Get out,” Razz snapped, looking back at his map.

Slim nodded and started toward the door. He hesitated in the doorway, though, and said, softly, “if you change your mind—“

“I won’t.”

Slim shut his sockets and quietly closed the door behind him. He took a moment to lean against it, head bowed and fingers raking over his scarred ulna. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Red, letting him know that, no, his brother would not be coming. Red’s response was neutral, but Slim knew that he was pleased by the news. None of the other skeletons really liked Razz. Slim didn’t exactly _blame_ them, since Razz was…well….

He’d gotten worse—a lot worse—since Alphys had turned on the queen. He hadn’t always been like this, though. Slim knew that he could be better, that he could actually be charming and, sometimes, even sweet, though he’d never admit it. It had been a long time, though, since Slim had seen his brother’s softer side. So he couldn’t really fault the others for thinking he was like this all the time.

His phone buzzed, prompting him to meet Edge and Red at their house. He smiled and shook his head fondly, aware that Red was trying to gently shepherd him along, convinced he wouldn’t come if Red didn’t guide him. With a practiced twist of his magic, he took a shortcut. A trip through the machine and another shortcut later, and he found himself in the Fell brothers’ living room, standing awkwardly on the mat in the corner. Automatically, he scanned the room, cataloguing the sparse decor and utilitarian style. There were no personal touches, no trinkets or marks of ownership. As always, he was struck by the understanding that this place was not a home, not really. He couldn’t help but wonder where home was for them, if this wasn’t it. Even he and Razz had personalized their house. Well, mostly Razz, but there were traces of Slim’s sense of humor as well.

_(“What is that?” Setting down a small box with thin chains wrapped around it. Holding up a hand, as if to ward his younger brother back, then carefully unlocking the chains. Jumping back as the box split open, revealing—a rock, with a pair of googley eyes crudely glued on. Razz, looking between him and the rock. “You’re an idiot.” But, as he turned away, smiling slightly and saying, “…Don’t forget to feed it, brother. I’ll not be responsible for_ your _pets.”)_

There was nothing like that here…except the frankly terrifying cat that glared at him from the top of the bookshelf. He eyed it warily, wondering if Red and Edge knew they shared the house with a literal demon or if maybe he was having some sort of drug induced hallucination. Even though he hadn’t taken anything recently. A flashback, maybe? Edge peered into the living room from the kitchen, and the cat, seeing him, made a happy _trll?_ sound. “Good,” Edge said, “you’re here.” He glanced at the cat and smiled indulgently. “Be nice, Fang. Slim is a guest.”

The cat, looking indignant, turned its back on him and started cleaning itself. Well. That answered that question, he supposed. Edge crooked his fingers, and Slim obediently followed him into the kitchen, then froze when he realized that Edge wasn’t wearing his armor. He’d never actually seen Edge without it before. He’d honestly thought he slept in it. Assuming he even needed to sleep. Red, sitting on the counter and licking frosting off a butter knife, waved in greeting. Seeing him, Edge rolled his eyes and snatched the knife from his phalanges. “Stop that! You’ll spoil your appetite.”

“boss, tha’s kinda the point.” Slim caught Red’s eyelight and raised a brow-bone. Looking a little uncomfortable, Red tugged at his collar. “rus ‘s makin’ dinner fer everyone.”

Slim’s sockets went wide, but Edge waved off his concerns. “Blue’s helping him. I’m certain everything will be edible.” He was busy eyeing a chocolate cake, regarding it with a kind of scrutiny Slim wouldn’t have thought a cake of all things could garner. Nodding to himself, Edge sealed the cake in a plastic cake carrier and set it in his inventory for safekeeping. “Are you lazy-bones ready?” he asked, hands on his hips.

“…ya sure we can’t eat before we go? there’s still some leftovers from las’ night in the—“

Edge rolled his eyelights and plucked Red off the counter, curling his arm around Red’s waist and carrying him at his side. Red sagged in his grip, sighing. Edge eyed Slim. “Do you have any objections?” he asked, chin lifted in challenge and brow-bone raised. Holding up his hands in surrender, Slim shook his head frantically. Edge was, frankly, almost as terrifying as the cat. “Then let’s go.” Another shortcut and another trip through the machine, then they were slogging through the snow to get to the Tale-verse brothers’ front door. Edge dropped Red unceremoniously in the snow, causing Slim to flinch.

He knew Red didn’t mind the rougher treatment—he’d flat out asked, once, if things were okay between the Fell brothers. Red had just stared at him blankly for a few minutes, as if he couldn’t understand what Slim was asking, let alone why. Then, when Red had finally connected the dots, he’d looked angry, though he’d repressed his anger to say, coolly, “i got 1 hp, dumbass. if boss was tryna hurt me, ya really think i’d still be alive ta have this little talk?” Slim hadn’t questioned it again—Red was right, if there was _any_ malice in Edge’s actions, then Red’s poor health wouldn’t have been able to withstand the treatment—but that didn’t make it any easier to watch.

Red stood up, shaking snow out of his jacket and glaring at his brother’s back. Smirking suddenly, he scooped up a handful of snow and formed it into a ball. Chuckling quietly, Red hefted the snowball in his hand. “hey, boss?”

“Wha—“ Edge turned, then ducked to avoid the snowball. His sockets went wide, then narrowed. “You little—“ He stooped, scooping snow into his hand, while Red started to sweat beads of red magic and back away.

“s-sorry, boss. my hand slipped, ya know? no need fer—“

Slim coughed deliberately, catching their attention. He jerked a thumb toward the Tale brothers’ front door and raised a brow-bone. Edge sighed and let the snow fall through his fingers. “Right.” He speared Red with a look, causing him to start sweating more heavily. “This isn’t over, runt.” Red laughed a little nervously, then followed the two Papyrus-es up to the door. Edge knocked briskly but opened the door without waiting for permission to enter. He called out, announcing their entrance, and—

“EDGE!”

A small blue blur came bounding out of the kitchen and launched itself at Edge. Slim automatically raised a hand and turned Blue’s soul blue, halting him mid-air before he could come in contact with the other Papyrus. His soul pulsed erratically, its core frozen in fear. Paps, previously lounging on the couch, stood and eyed the scene, earning a glare from Slim. He was supposed to be looking out for his brother! What was he even thinking?! Who knows how Edge would have reacted if Blue actually managed to—

Eyeing Slim with a raised brow-bone, Edge caught Blue around the waist and pulled him close. “Pipsqueak,” he said in greeting, “You’re doing well, I take it?”

“I’m _magnificent!_ ” Blue said with a giggle, nearly vibrating with excitement, “What are you doing here?! No one told me you were coming—if I’d known I would have brought some sriracha! But maybe milk is better anyway, if your ribs are still—OH MY GOODNESS!” He exclaimed, eyes wide. “I didn’t think about your ribs! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Immediately and apparently without a thought, Blue started pulling up Edge’s shirt to get a look at his ribcage. “Are you healing okay? Does anything hurt—?!” Edge squawked indignantly and pulled away a little, but he didn’t drop Blue, apparently unwilling to treat him with the same roughness he reserved for Red.

Paps came up behind Blue and carefully caught his hand, pulling Edge’s shirt back down. “hey, bro? maybe don’t undress the edgelord out in the open, huh?” He looked up at Edge and, with a wink, said, “i can think of a better venue for that sort of thing, anyway.”

“Papy! Don’t be _lewd_! I just wanted a look at his ribcage—“

“who doesn’t?”

“—to make sure he was properly healed!”

Edge huffed and adjusted his grip on Blue. “I’m fine, pipsqueak.”

“You always say that, even when you’re not! I need to—“ Edge shifted away, dodging Blue’s hand. “Edge! Stay _still_ ; don’t be difficult.”

Edge shook his head, chuckling quietly. Then, he caught Blue up in a proper hug, wrapping one of Blue’s arms around his ribs. “See?” he asked, “I’m fine.”

Apparently seeing an opening, Paps looked him up and down and said, “yeah you are.” That earned him an indignant huff…and a bright red blush. With a greater degree of hesitance than his earlier flirting had hinted at, the taller Papyrus took a step forward and asked, “can i…?”

Rolling his eyelights, Edge sighed but held his other arm out. Grinning, Paps stepped into the embrace, one arm wrapped around Edge and the other supporting Blue. He sighed and nuzzled into Edge’s neck. “Okay, that’s enough. Get off.”

“already? i need a bit more foreplay than that, edgelord.” Blue and Edge both started scolding him for that, but Paps seemed unrepentant.

Dumbfounded, Slim watched the entire exchange with wide sockets. Then he glanced at Red, who was regarding him with raised brow-bones. Sighing, Slim fished a bottle of mustard out of his inventory and passed it over. He’d assumed that Red was trying to pull some sort of convoluted prank, or—more likely—pulling an outrageous story out of his pelvic cavity to convince Slim to accompany him to Movie Night. He’d assumed he’d at least get a bottle of caramel out of this whole ridiculous thing. He’d never have guessed that Red was telling the truth; Paps and Edge had never really gotten along—meaning, of course, that they clearly hated each other more than should be possible, considering they were, technically, the same damn monster—and seeing them like this was just…surreal.

Things only got weirder when Paps looked up at Slim and smiled hesitantly. “heya, slim. how’s it going?” Slim tried really hard not to stare at him. Paps wasn’t all that fond of Slim, either. In fact, the only Papyrus he seemed to like was _Rus_. Ducking his head to hide his confusion, Slim gave him a thumbs-up by way of answer. “good,” Paps said, a little awkwardly. He turned to greet Red, then Blue was dragging Edge away—

“I saved you a seat!”

“You didn’t even know I was coming, how could you possibly have—“ Blue pushed him onto the couch, then climbed into his lap, giggling when Edge’s sockets widened.

“We can share!”

“…I see.”

—and Paps trailed behind them, grinning at their antics. Now that they weren’t being observed, Slim caught Red’s sleeve and pointed to the trio, his gesticulations emphatic enough to make it clear he expected an explanation. Red rubbed the back of his neck and, under his breath, said, “i’ll tell ya later, ‘kay?” Slim glared down at him and held out his hand, pinky extended. Red looked between him and his hand, then sighed dramatically, put-upon. “yer a real dork sometimes, ya know that, right?” But he hooked his pinkie with Slim’s, sealing the promise.

Then more Tale-verse monsters were spilling from the kitchen. Rus rushed over to pull Red into a hug, though Red blushed vibrantly and reminded him that it had only been a few hours since they’d seen each other. Even as he had one arm wrapped around Red, Rus brightened on seeing Slim and caught him with the other arm, bringing the two Fell-verse monsters into a hug. “SMALL-ME!” he exclaimed, beaming at Slim, “I’M SO HAPPY YOU AND EDGY-ME COULD COME!”

Slim just looked back at him with wide sockets, never entirely sure how to react to this kind of casual contact. It wasn’t _bad_. It was…it was nice, he thought, but he just—he wasn’t used it! Fell monsters didn’t do things like this. They just _didn’t_. So he glanced at Red, seeking guidance—and had to choke down his laughter. Red blushed so brightly he looked to be on the verge of spontaneous combustion, and there was so much naked adoration in his eyelights as he looked up at Rus that Slim was a little embarrassed for him. Well, since he had no plans to make puppy-dog—heh—eyes at his alternate, he just slung an arm over Rus’ shoulders and squeezed his clavicle. Was that…okay? Was it enough? Was he supposed to do something else? Something more? Or, maybe it was too much?

Slim really had no idea, so he just waited for Rus to pull away, then he stepped out of his hold, not sure if he was relieved or disappointed at the loss of contact. Sans, hovering on the edge of the room, waved at him, and Slim waved back, a little hesitantly. Then Sans peeled away from the wall to approach. He looked Slim over, grinning enigmatically. “heya, kiddo. you doing okay?”

Slim had to repress a smirk. Sans and Red were a good deal more alike than either of them would probably like to admit. He nodded in response to Sans’ question, though that did nothing to dissuade the Tale-verse monster from examining him critically. Slim resisted the urge to tug on his hoodie sleeve and make sure the fresh marks on his ulna were properly concealed. A sharp-eyed monster like Sans would notice, and he couldn’t have that.

Rus paused in the kitchen doorway, one hand on Red’s upper back as he ushered him inside. “SMALL-ME?” he asked. Slim lifted his chin to indicate he was listening. “HOW MANY PLACE SETTINGS WILL WE BE NEEDING?”

This time, he didn’t bother to repress his shy, sad smile as he held up seven fingers. Of all of them, Rus was the only one that actively tried to include Razz in their get-togethers. Even Blue was more reserved around Razz. Understandable, Slim supposed…but then again, Rus and Edge seemed to get along just fine, so why—? “OH. I SUPPOSE RAZZ WAS TOO BUSY? WELL, MAYBE NEXT TIME!” Slim swallowed, fingers worrying the hem of his jacket. It hurt his soul, watching his younger brother pull further and further away, but it was nice to know he had at least one ally among the other skeletons. Brightening, Rus looked over the room’s occupants and asked, “SO, WHO’S READY TO EAT?”

 

Blue, thankfully, had helped with dinner, so it mostly edible. And Edge’s chocolate cake was _amazing_. Weirdly, it was actually reminiscent of Muffet’s cooking, but Slim figured there were really only so many ways to make chocolate cake, so that was understandable. The three younger brothers piled into the kitchen afterwards, insisting that the dishes needed to be washed, dried, and put away before they could start the movie. Paps had stood awkwardly for a few minutes, apparently torn between following them into the kitchen and staying in the living room with his age-mates. Eventually, he’d decided to lounge in the doorway so he could be part of both conversations.

That’s how Slim found himself tucked between two Sans-es, both of them leaning against him and purring quietly. Smirking to himself, Slim pulled the sucker from his mouth so he could say, “didn’t know you two could cook.”

Sans’ purring briefly stuttered to a stop before it kicked up a notch, likely surprised to hear Slim say anything. Red, on the other hand, recognized a set up when he heard it. Grin stretched wide, he asked, “whaddaya mean? we didn’ make dinner.”

“nah,” Slim said, “but you make the best _sans_ wiches.”

Red laughed immediately, but Sans was apparently too surprised to catch the joke at first. Soon enough, though, they were both laughing happily, and Slim grinned, pleased with himself. Tucking the sucker back into his mouth, Slim settled more deeply into the couch, something in his chest loosening. This was nice, he decided, being able to relax a little, feeling warm and safe and comfortable. Silently, he decided that next time Red invited him to come to one of these get-togethers, he’d definitely be joining them. Even if he had to choke down Rus’ spaghetti, it was more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Next up--another Underfell minisode.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm holding off on any further updates while I work on a sequel to Broken Bones. In the meantime, I have a Tumblr.
> 
> [@itsladykit](https://itsladykit.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I post updates on my fics, post some of my bizarre headcanons, answer questions, reblog art, and give fic recs. Feel free to drop by and say hi~. : )


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